Booze, Bribes and Bad Decisions
by jennybenny2845
Summary: The Malfoys always get what they want. A follow-up to Come Full Circle. Written for Bex's Chapter Competition on the HPFC.
1. Confessions

**A/N: I present to you the follow-up piece to _Come Full Circle_. This won't make sense unless you've read that first. For those of you continuing the journey - enjoy!**

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><p>Draco placed his hand on the doorknob, ready to escort himself out of his mother's flat. He had no desire to spend any time with his newly reunited parents. He figured he'd leave them in peace to do whatever they pleased. <em>Most likely more shagging, <em>he thought, crinkling his face in disgust. He still couldn't believe what he heard. Granted, he was happy that they were back together. He just didn't need to _hear_ evidence on their reunion. He twisted the knob, opening the door an inch.

"Draco!" Narcissa called. "Come eat!"

Draco froze. His stomach grumbled loudly, reminding him that it was already late in the morning, and he hadn't eaten a single thing. Then again, the thought of having to look at his parents after what he'd just heard didn't sound very appealing at the moment.

"It's ok, Mum! I'll just eat at home!" He opened the door some more and put a foot on the front doorstep.

"Son, come eat!" Lucius insisted, summoning him back into the flat and putting him in a place where he had no choice but to accept their request.

Draco sighed deeply, his shoulders sinking and his head falling forward in defeat. He stepped out of his shoes and set them by the front door. He crawled through the winding corridors to the kitchen, moving at a snail's pace with his feet dragging behind him. _I'll eat quickly, and then I'll leave_, he decided, thinking of ways to make breakfast less awkward. _Perhaps they can Obliviate me! Yes! That'd be perfect! I'll suggest it! It would benefit all of us!_

Several minutes later, Draco appeared in the entryway to the kitchen. An elegant spread, filled with every breakfast food imaginable, lay atop the kitchen table. His mother's team of house-elves had really overdone themselves. They'd made enough food to feed a small army.

His parents sat next to each other, consuming their food with a gusto he'd never seen before. In fact, his mother's actions bordered on unladylike. She shoved her food into her mouth at an alarmingly rapid rate. Her quick pace reminded him of a certain redheaded classmate.

"Sit down," Narcissa directed once she'd finally noticed him standing in the entryway. Draco obeyed and took a seat across from his parents. He reached for the teapot, ready to fill his cup with the warm liquid. On second thought, he drew his hand away, deciding it best not to awaken his senses further. He poured himself a glass of water and sipped slowly on it.

"Eat, Draco," Lucius urged, noticing that his son hadn't filled his plate. Once again, Draco obliged, unable to disobey his parents. He put a bit of everything on his plate. Unfortunately, his hunger had vanished the moment he stepped into the room. _How can they just sit there pretending like nothing happened?_

"Honey…" Narcissa began, clearing her throat to catch his attention. Draco looked up from his plate and locked eyes with her. Her cheeks were still a bit flushed. _At least she has the decency to stay at least a bit ashamed!_ His father, however, showed no signs of shame, which Draco expected. After all, his father had gotten exactly what he wanted, like always.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," Narcissa apologised again. Lucius reached over and placed a hand atop of hers, stroking it with his thumb, trying to calm his clearly embarrassed wife.

"Luv, it's all right," Lucius told her, not giving Draco a chance to respond. "We're all adults here. It's not like he hasn't _heard_ it… or _engaged_ in it before," Lucius reminded her. Draco's mouth dropped open in horror as his father revealed that tidbit of news to his mother. _That's the last time I tell him anything private!_

"What?" Narcissa exclaimed, her azure eyes widening at Lucius' comment. Her fork hit her plate, and a loud clang rang through the kitchen. "What about waiting until marriage?" She flashed Draco a look of severe disappointment, which made him feel incredibly guilty. Draco's brow furrowed. His cool grey eyes narrowed into slits, and he glared at his father.

"It's the noughties," Lucius replied with the shrug of his shoulders. "They handle _that_ differently these days."

"With who?" Narcissa asked, unable to grasp that her baby boy was no longer pure. "Was it with Astoria, at least?" she added, as if knowing that Draco had slept with his betrothed would make matters any better.

"Yes," Draco answered truthfully. He quickly erected his mental shields, thankful to have had mastered the art of Occlumency from his late aunt. Granted, he knew he had no chance if his mother really wanted to penetrate his mind.

"Just with Astoria? No one else?"

Draco gulped and started to reply in the affirmative. He wasn't about to tell his mother all his dalliances. Simply put, he'd slept with a string of witches after the end of the war. He'd been in an extremely low place, and the sex numbed the pain and guilt he felt over his actions during the war. Thankfully, he met Astoria shortly after, and she helped pull him from his dark place.

"Luv!" Lucius jumped in, saving Draco from having to answer. "It isn't right to pry into our son's private life," Lucius chided. Narcissa huffed and turned her attention to her tea. Draco mouthed Lucius his thanks, and Lucius nodded in response.

XXX

"So, how did you wind up back with him, Mother?" Draco asked, shifting the focus back on his parents. "You swore you were never getting back together with Father again."

"That's true," Narcissa replied, setting down her teacup. She dabbed at the corner of her mouth with her white linen serviette. "Let's just say that I had a change of heart."

"And, I'm very thankful for that," Lucius added.

"That's good, but you're not telling me how," Draco pointed out, despite already knowing the why and the how. He wanted to hear it from her. He still couldn't believe that she hadn't suspected anything.

"Your father and I were both at Chez Pierre's in Paris last Friday evening. We were waiting for our dates. They never showed up," Narcissa began. "Your father was a table behind me, and he noticed me. We struck up a conversation, and he asked if he could sit with me," she continued.

"No one should dine alone," Lucius reminded her with a small smile.

"I didn't want him to at first, but it'd be rude to say no. So, I let him. The rest is history," she finished, not wanting to add any unnecessary details. "Though, I _do_ wonder who wrote that note."

Lucius and Draco exchanged a glance, figuring that she'd pose _that_ question at some point. They locked eyes, mentally asking each other whether they should let her in on their little plan. It'd be in their best interests to tell her now as opposed to later. They'd have hell to pay if she figured it out for herself.

"I wrote the note," Lucius confessed softly, hoping she wouldn't hex him.

"You did?" Narcissa's mouth dropped open, and she cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Yes," admitted Lucius. "Would you have agreed if I knocked on your door and asked you?"

"You'd never step foot in _Muggle_ London to come see me," Narcissa countered. Lucius nodded. "And, you're right. I would have said no and slammed the door in your face."

"Exactly – hence the note. And, I couldn't sign it either since my name would have been the last one you would have wanted to see."

"That is true," she agreed. "Draco, darling… did _you_ have anything to do with this?"

Draco looked up and placed his silverware next to his empty plate. He cast a glance at Lucius, and Lucius gave him a small nod.

"Yes," Draco confessed. "I _surely_ did."

"Did it have anything to do with those _dates_ you set up for me?" Narcissa asked, remembering how adamant he'd been about her reentering the dating scene.

"Yes."

"What about them?"

"Well, I made sure that they were with the _worst_ wizards possible – the ones that you'd get along with the least. This was in hopes that the dates would fail miserably."

"I see."

"They did, right?" asked Draco. "There's no way that dates with Ronald Weasley and Xenophilius Lovegood could have been enjoyable!"

Narcissa briefly recalled her passionate sessions with both men - pressed up against the kitchen table with Ron and following a walk in her garden with Xenophilius. A telltale blush almost formed on her face, but she managed to keep her face impassive.

"You went out with them?" Lucius exclaimed, slamming his palms on the table. Both Narcissa and Draco jumped in their seats. "Did you..." Lucius started to ask, recalling that she'd slept with two men during their separation. His mind filled with various hexes to cast at Mr Weasley and Mr Lovegood - definitely something that would make them permanently unable to use their family jewels. That's if he didn't kill them first.

Narcissa quickly turned to her jealous husband and placed her hands on the sides of his face. Her gentle touch pacified him, and he relaxed his tense shoulders.

"Lucius!" she exclaimed, shaking her head at him. "How could you possibly think _that_? What kind of woman do you think I am?" she questioned, letting her tone show her disappointment over his accusations. "You're right, Draco. The dates _most_ certainly weren't _enjoyable_," she confirmed.

Lucius shook his head and stared deep into her eyes, trying to decipher any deception in her words. In that tense moment, Narcissa had never been more thankful for her uncanny ability to shield her mind. She hadn't regretted her actions with the two men - not even in the slightest. But, there were certain things her husband didn't need to see - these two dalliances topping the list of things to keep hidden.

"Good!" Lucius replied, exhaling deeply. "I really do not fancy another stint in Azkaban! Though, it'd be for cursing a Weasley, and that'd be more than worth it!" Lucius quipped, rubbing his palms together. Draco grinned and quickly hid it behind his hand.

Narcissa shot him Lucius a disapproving look, and he immediately quieted.

XXX

The Malfoys ate in silence while Narcissa processed their confessions. She had suspected something suspicious with Draco's date choices.

"Did Miss Greengrass play a role in this?" Narcissa asked Lucius.

"Yes," Lucius confessed. "That was also done by design."

"You wanted to upset me and show me what I was missing, right?"

Lucius nodded.

"Then, you played on that assumption and asked me out, knowing that I'd probably accept."

"Correct."

"Well played," Narcissa acknowledged, nodding at her two favourite men. "Though, I _cannot_ fathom how you both convinced them all to help."

"It wasn't _that_ difficult," stated Draco. "Especially once they were fully _motivated_," he added with a small smirk.

"And, we all _knew_ that you wanted me back anyway," drawled Lucius with a laugh. Narcissa swatted his arm, but didn't deny his statement.

"Tell me how you did it," Narcissa demanded, scowling at Lucius and Draco.

And with that, the Malfoy men started their story.


	2. Matters of the Heart

Draco sat with his arms folded over his chest, his cool grey irises shooting daggers at his father. He couldn't believe that he'd agreed to this meeting. He should have known that the meeting's purpose wasn't to ask about Draco's health and well-being. After all, his father rarely did anything that didn't benefit him in some way.

It had been four long years since his mother walked out on his father. Draco vividly recalled that autumn evening. His father had shown up at Draco's London flat crying and completely pissed. Evidently, his mother had discovered that his father was up to no good and had left him, unable to put up with whatever he had done. Lucius hadn't been particularly forthcoming in disclosing what he'd done. At the time, Draco realised that whatever it was had to have been pretty bad, since his mother had been incredibly tolerant of _all_ of Lucius' wrongdoings.

"Thank you for meeting me," Lucius said, setting down his dinner menu. He flashed his son a soft smile and took a small sip from his wine glass. "You look _much_ better."

"What do you want?" Draco spat, cutting to the chase. He downed the rest of his wine and quickly refilled it.

He lacked the strength to act civil toward his father and go through the motions of having a nice dinner with him. Draco still held some anger and resentment toward his father for guiding him down the wrong path during his childhood. Yes, Draco understood that his father didn't have a choice, but he wished that he'd tried harder to save him from becoming one of _them_. Draco would forever bear the symbol of his stupidity with the faded mark on his left forearm.

Lucius flinched. His son's cold words were like daggers piercing through his chest, stabbing the spots where it hurt the most. Lucius sighed deeply, shook his head and took a deep breath.

"As you already know, your mother left me four years ago," Lucius began. "She hasn't made any sign of returning. Word has it that she's moved to Muggle London. _Muggle_ London! Can you believe it?" Lucius asked incredulously, slamming his palms on the tabletop.

"I see," Draco responded, not bothering to tell his father that he already knew of his mother's whereabouts and that he had brunch with her every week.

"I want her back," his father simply stated.

"Then ask her," Draco shot back.

"I need your help," Lucius pleaded.

"No, you don't," Draco argued. "I _refuse_ to get involved in this."

"She listens to _you_," Lucius stressed. "You've got to convince her to take me back – that I've made a horrible mistake."

"No," Draco repeated firmly, shaking his head at his father.

"Please!" Lucius begged in a tone that threatened to spill all his pent-up emotion with regard to his separation. "We didn't even get a chance to talk about it. She just left!" he reminded Draco.

Draco kicked Lucius' leg and shot him a warning look, wordlessly asking him to settle down before he drew any unwanted attention to himself.

XXX

Thankfully, their dinners arrived before Lucius could make a complete fool out of himself. Draco dug into his perfectly cooked steak and ate a couple bites as he pretended to mull over his father's ludicrous request.

Deep down, he knew that his father _adored_ his mother, despite his difficulties to show his love for her in the best ways. Draco also knew that his mother still _loved_ his father, despite everything that'd happened between them. He saw through her efforts to hide her feelings for him. He could tell that the articles printed in the _Prophet_ about Lucius' supposed dalliances following their separation affected her in more ways than she cared to admit.

Looking at it rationally, Draco had to admit that his father had done a good job of keeping himself out of trouble, despite the temptation to stray down familiar paths. Draco knew that Lucius hadn't gone through with his original plans. Lucius had given up that notion after realising the trouble that it'd pose. As it was, Lucius was already walking a very thin line with the Ministry, and it would take very little to place him on the Ministry's bad side. There were still some Ministry members itching to throw him in Azkaban where they believed he belonged.

Draco did want his mother back in the Wizarding world. Simply put, she _belonged_ there. He wasn't keen on the idea of her living among the Muggles. His upper lip curled in disgust at the thought of them in her presence. Thankfully she hadn't actually befriended any of them. All her acquaintances were witches who'd fled the Wizarding world after the war. He supposed he couldn't blame her for wanting to leave either. There were many times where he too wished he could get away from it all.

And, being completely honest with himself, he much preferred his parents _together_. The general melancholy that lay in their eyes when they discussed the other didn't go unnoticed by him. His father looked worse for wear, a little more lackadaisical in his appearance now that she'd left him, seemingly for good. His mother's appearance had certainly improved from when he first saw her after the separation, but her looks also fell way short from where they were before.

XXX

"Are the stories in the _Prophet_ true?" Draco asked as if he'd help him make his decision. "Have you really been with _all_ those witches?"

Lucius' eyes shot up and he choked a bit on the piece of food in his mouth. He coughed loudly, drawing curious looks from some of the diners seated next to them. Lucius cleared his throat and took a large sip of his wine.

"No, Draco. _None_ of them are true. I honestly cannot believe you'd think _that_," Lucius responded, his voice coloured with disappointment. He made a note to speak to the _Prophet _about their stories. A handful of Galleons might stop the presses.

"What about the _wizards_?"

"Of course not! That's preposterous, Draco!" Lucius exclaimed, his voice rising slightly. "Have you ever seen _anything_ in me that would show _that_?"

Draco shook his head. "Why should I help you?"

Lucius launched into a passionate plea for Draco's help, reminding him that he'd done no wrong, that he was sorry for what he'd done, that he missed Narcissa very much and so forth and so on.

XXX

The Malfoy men fell silent again as they finished the rest of their drinks and dinner. Draco ran the pros and cons of his father's request over and over, torn between his desire to help and his desire to stay out of it completely.

Lucius was completely on edge, ridden with anxiety over how Draco continued to drag out his decision. He wanted an answer, if only to put him out of his misery. Besides, he'd find other ways to get her back if his son refused to help. _Malfoys always get what they want_, Lucius thought, reminding himself of his inner motto.

"I have a counter proposal," said Draco several minutes later.

"I'm listening," Lucius replied, incredibly proud that his son had learned well. _You never agree to something without getting anything in return._

"Have you promised my hand to someone?"

"We were considering entering into a marriage contact with the Parkinsons," Lucius admitted. "We obviously haven't been able to given the situation. But, we thought it best for you to marry their daughter. After all, we're rather close to their family."

"I don't want to marry Pansy!" Draco practically shouted, earning a warning glance from Lucius. "I refuse. I _won't_ do it. I _don't_ love her!" Draco hissed, dropping his voice to a heated whisper.

"Do you have an alternative suggestion?" Lucius asked, quickly losing his patience. He wanted his answer and he wanted it now.

Draco quieted for a moment, debating whether to lay all his cards on the table. He wasn't entirely sure that Lucius would approve of his choice. But, he had a feeling his father would do whatever he could to get Draco to help him.

"Astoria Greengrass."

"Astoria Greengrass?" Lucius repeated, his mouth dropping open. "You cannot be serious, Draco."

"I am," Draco responded, tilting his chin defiantly up at his father. "I'll help you if you let me marry _her_."

"What do I tell the Parkinsons?"

"I don't know," Draco responded with a shrug. "I'm sure you can figure it out."

This time, Lucius sat silently for a few minutes, pondering his son's request. The Greengrass girls definitely weren't his first choices for matches for his son. Then again, perhaps a more _neutral_ association would benefit them more. The Parkinson family had been known supporters of the Dark Lord's philosophy despite not bearing his mark on their forearms.

"Fine," Lucius acquiesced with a soft sigh. "Astoria Greengrass, it is."

Draco let out the breath he'd been holding, thankful that he'd been able to persuade his father.

With the agreement set in place, they spent the rest of the meal concocting a plan for Lucius' to reclaim Narcissa's affections.


	3. Photographs and Promises

Draco entered the Leaky Cauldron, immediately scanning the sea of patrons for his mark. He'd rather be anywhere else that evening. But, he'd agreed to do this, and he wasn't a man to back out on his word. _It'll all be worth it. Astoria's worth it_, he gently reminded himself. His eyes flitted around the bar once more before spotting the flaming shock of red hair. Surprisingly enough, his mark had shown up early and was already seated at the bar, nursing a tumbler of Firewhisky.

Draco groaned and rolled his eyes, noticing the droplets of rain that lingered in the redhead's mussed tresses. He never quite understood how he had worked as an Auror when he appeared unable to properly cast a simple Impervius Charm. Draco really wasn't looking forward to this meeting and hoped to get it over as quickly as possible. He swiftly made his way through the thick crowd and took a seat next to the man.

Draco locked eyes with the barmaid and requested a tumbler of Firewhisky. He took a large sip and reviewed his plan. "Weaselbee," drawled Draco.

"What d'you want, Malfoy?" slurred Ron, not bothering to face Draco. Draco bit back a smile; thrilled that Weasley was already pretty pissed. Perhaps this would be over quicker than he planned.

"To talk," Draco answered lazily, taking another sip of his Firewhisky.

"'Bout what?" Ron tried to ask for another from the barmaid, but he'd been cut off. Three empty tumblers sat in front of him. "I'd like another," Ron spat at the barmaid, quickly growing irate.

"Calm down!" Draco hissed, unwilling to draw attention to them.

"I can't!" yelled Ron, whirling around to face Draco. He grabbed as Draco's jumper, dragging down Draco's face to his. Draco stiffened, silently demanding Ron to let him go before he resorted to other measures. "She's left me!" Ron howled, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to spill from his bright blue eyes.

"Weaselbee, I don't know who you're talking about," Draco lied. "And quite frankly, I don't care. I'm sure you _deserved_ it." Draco reluctantly touched Ron's hands, cringing at the feel of the redhead's traitorous skin underneath his fingertips. _Remind me to burn this jumper_, Draco thought, straightening it out.

"Hermione!" exclaimed Ron. "We got into a row over something stupid… I can't remember anymore, and then she just left – no note, no nothing," Ron spilled, unable to control himself. Fat tears dripped down his pale cheeks. Ron's head fell forward and hit the top of the bar from the force of his sobs.

"How long ago?" Draco inquired even though he already knew the answer. The _Prophet_ had already printed several stories about the couple's demise. Quite frankly, Draco didn't understand how he'd managed to snag her. Even he had to admit that Granger had some decent qualities about her, and he'd be lying to himself if she hadn't grown more attractive over the years. Plus, she held a well-respected position in the Ministry. Draco cringed once more, berating himself for thinking about Granger longer than he deemed necessary.

"Three weeks ago," the barmaid answered in Ron's stead. "He's been here almost every day since then. Sometimes, he gets so pissed. We've got to call someone to get him and take him home. I've tried to convince Tom not to let him enter, but he won't since he's Potter's friend," the barmaid finished, huffing in annoyance.

"Thank you," Draco politely replied, leaving a large tip next to his empty tumbler.

"Another?" Draco shook his head. He couldn't afford to get pissed, not with what was on the line. Ron's sobs eventually subsided, allowing Draco to focus on the task at hand.

"Ron," Draco addressed, hoping to catch the redhead's attention. It worked, and Ron lifted his head and slowly turned to face him. He wiped his tears off his face, trying to look somewhat presentable.

"What, Malfoy?" Ron asked with a heavy sigh. "If you're here to make fun of me, I really don't want to hear it."

"I'm not here to make fun of you," assured Draco. Draco's words seemed to help Ron sober up for a few seconds. Ron's eyes widened, and he stared into Draco's eyes, trying to decide whether the blond's words held any truth to them. Draco didn't even bother shielding his mind, knowing there was no way Ron mastered the art of Legilimency. "I've got an offer for you. I believe you'll find it rather _attractive_."

"And whaz that?" slurred Ron, returning to his drunken stupor. He ran his finger along the rim of the tumbler, desperately wishing he had more Firewhisky to drink. He desperately needed something to numb the pain. _Where's Tom? He always give me some more_, Ron mused.

"I'm sure you've heard that my mum left my father," Draco began.

"Uh huh," grunted Ron in response nodding his head. "She _finally_ left the bastard."

"Do _not_ call my father a bastard!" Draco snapped, slamming his fists on the table. Startled, Ron almost fell out of his seat.

"So, it's been four years now, and I think she should start dating again," continued Draco. "I don't like the thought of her being alone."

"Uh huh," drawled Ron, not hearing a word Draco said. His body started to sway on its own accord. He almost fell out of his stool, but caught himself.

"I need you to go on a date with her."

"What?"

"I need you to go on a date with her," repeated Draco, slowly speaking each word to make sure Ron heard him clearly.

"You cannot be serious," Ron retorted. He scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I am," Draco stated, refusing to state his request a third time. "Dinner at her flat, two Fridays from now."

"No, I _won't_ do it," Ron replied, vehemently shaking his head. "Absolutely not."

"Come on, Weaselbee… it's _just_ dinner," coaxed Draco. "It'll be over in a few hours. And, her house-elves make _excellent_ food – definitely _better_ than Hogwarts and probably better than your mum's cooking."

Draco's chest filled with hope, watching Ron's eyes twinkle at the mere mention of food. If he'd know it'd be this easy, he would have shown up to the Leaky Cauldron bearing some of Ron's favourite dishes.

The thought of a home-cooked meal was enough to whet Ron's appetite. He'd moved into a tiny flat over the joke shop after his breakup. George hardly had time to prepare meals since he kept busy tending to the shop and developing new product lines. Ron's current meals consisted of his or George's shoddy attempts at cooking and lots of takeaway. Ron even missed Hermione's cooking, which definitely paled in comparison to his mum's. He didn't doubt that Narcissa's house-elves excelled in the art of cooking. _Can I ask them to cook something special for me if I attend? Wait a minute… this is Malfoy's mum we're talking about…_

"No, Malfoy. I _won't_ do it," repeated Ron, firmly standing his ground. Ron's stomach rumbled unhappily as thoughts of the meal left his mind.

Draco gnawed on his bottom lip, glaring at the defiant redhead with narrowed eyes. "Really? That's what you've got to say after what _I_ did for _you_? You _owe_ me, Weaselbee."

"I owe you nothing, Malfoy," Ron spat, his temper rising. "Trust me, I'd rather your body _burned_ in the flames. It was _Harry's_ decision to save you, not mine. If anything, you _owe_ me," corrected Ron.

Draco sighed heavily and shook his head. _It's time play my trump card. _Draco cocked his head to the side and rolled his neck. _It's on, Weaselbee. _He reached into his coat, placed a manila envelope on the table and slid it toward Ron. Ron's fingers trembled slight as he struggled to undo the string keeping the folder sealed.

Draco watched in delight as Ron's mouth dropped open at the sight of the photographs that tumbled out of the envelope. Ron quickly collected them all and turned them over, hoping no one around them caught a glimpse of them. His face immediately reddened, vividly recalling the events captured in the photographs. He'd been young - incredibly stupid and young.

"Now do you remember?" Draco asked, working hard to control his sudden urge to laugh.

"I thought you _destroyed_ these! I thought we had a _deal_!" cried Ron, simply unable to believe that Draco reneged on their supposed agreement.

"Oh, please, Weaselbee. What you did for me hardly counts as fulfilling your end of our deal. We both know that _Granger_ did all the work," Draco pointed out. "I figured I'd save the _highlights_."

_Damn him to Hell_, Ron mused, suddenly realising that Draco clearly had the upper hand in the situation.

"I _hate_ you, Malfoy," Ron moaned, resting his head in his hands.

"Whatever, Weaselbee. Let's make this clear. You will have dinner with my mum at her flat two Fridays from now," Draco began, smiling triumphantly, knowing he'd gotten exactly what he wanted. "You'd better be there. I'll find out if you don't show up or show up and leave early. I'll release the pictures to the _Prophet_, and they will print them on the front page. You wouldn't want Granger or your _mum_ seeing them, would you?"

Ron moaned unhappily, refusing to remove his head from his hands. "Will you destroy them after I've had dinner with her?"

"Yes, you can come to my office Monday morning and watch me do it."

"How do I know you haven't made any more copies?" Ron asked, lifting his head to look at Draco.

"Really, Weaselbee? Do you really think I'd stoop that low and waste any more of my precious time trying to make your life more miserable than it already is?"

Ron shrugged, still unwilling to believe what he'd agreed to do. Draco launched into a lengthy explanation, informing Ron about how to conduct himself during his upcoming dinner date. Ron sobered immediately and listened hard, vowing to do everything in his power to do it right so Draco would destroy the damning photographs for good.


	4. Monetary Motivation

Draco strode through the Leaky Cauldron the following Friday evening with his head held high. His father had liberally praised him for convincing one man to execute part of their plan. Of course, he had insisted Draco tell him who he had managed to convince, but Draco had refused to tell him, knowing Lucius wouldn't be able to handle it. The last thing Draco needed was for Lucius to ruin his chances at reuniting with Narcissa. On the outside, Draco exuded the collected confidence, which was par for the course for all Malfoy men. However, this evening, his insides twisted and turned. His nerves hit a record high, and he had second thoughts on whether he could actually convince this particular man to take part in their elaborate plan.

Draco weaved through the growing throng of patrons packed into the pub. He clenched his jaw, determined not to touch any of them. He snatched the hem of his travelling cloak away, preventing a witch with hideous heels from stepping on it. Draco always hated the Leaky Cauldron, finding the popular pub too dingy for its own good. He preferred to conduct his business meetings over drinks at more upscale pubs. However, he knew full well that this man would stick out badly at all of them.

Eventually, his cool grey eyes spotted his target, sipping on a tumbler of Firewhisky and chatting animatedly with the buxom blonde barmaid from his last visit. Draco looked down the bar in search for the redhead who evidently now called the bar home. He didn't spot him anywhere, which was a good thing. He didn't need any distractions this evening – not with so much on the line.

"Good evening, Mr Lovegood," Draco greeted, taking a seat in the stool next to him. The barmaid smiled widely at him and passed him a tumbler of Firewhisky. He nodded at her in thanks, mentally readying himself for the task at hand.

Xenophilius Lovegood grunted an incoherent response, not bothering to look at who'd taken a seat beside him. The man's high, haughty tone gave him away. And honestly, Xenophilius had no idea what possessed him to meet the man in the first place. It wasn't as if their families were on friendly terms.

Draco huffed, quickly growing irritated at the blatant disrespect the pathetic excuse for a wizard had displayed. He shook his head and took a small sip of his Firewhisky, hoping to find the confidence and courage to continue. In the back of his mind, he knew that his father would have been better suited for the task at hand. His father had a knack for getting the most reluctant to eventually give in and do as he wished.

"What do you want?" Xenophilius bit out moments later. He emptied the contents of his tumbler into his mouth and turned to face Draco. Xenophilius' hardened gaze bore into Draco, causing him to flinch. Draco hoped it went unnoticed.

"I'm sure this is no news to you," Draco began. "But, rumour has it that your little paper is going under," he finished, taking another small sip of his Firewhisky.

"What's it matter to you?" spat Xenophilius. Then again, he wasn't surprised that the younger Malfoy had mentioned his paper. After all, Draco's father had essentially been calling for the demise of _The Quibbler_ since its creation. But, he highly doubted that Draco even knew what his paper entailed let alone read any of its articles.

"Mr Lovegood, I know your _finances_ are rather _tight_ these days."

"How do you know _that_?" Xenophilius demanded, cocking an eyebrow up at the younger man.

"I'm a _Malfoy_, Mr Lovegood," Draco responded, his voice laced with arrogance only a Malfoy could have. "I know _everything_," he drawled, puffing his chest out slightly.

"_Everything_?" cried Xenophilius, the horror and disbelief creeping into his voice.

"Yes," Draco hissed. "I know it _all_."

A smug smile formed on Draco's face as he watched the older man come apart at his words. Xenophilius ordered another tumbler of Firewhisky, downing its contents in one large gulp. He requested another and did the same.

"How would your darling daughter feel if she found out… if she found out that he father squandered it all in search of something so stupid… something that doesn't even exist," continued Draco, his words hitting Xenophilius' weakest point.

"You wouldn't!" cried Xenophilius, pounding the bar with his fists.

"See, here's the thing, Mr Lovegood," replied Draco, lowering his voice into a threatening whisper. "You and I both know that I _would_ and I _will_."

"What do you want from me? What have _I_ ever done to _you_?" Xenophilius asked, hanging his head in defeat. It really wasn't his fault that he'd lost it all. He'd been so close – closer than he'd ever been in years of his lifelong quest to finally find it. He'd been so devastated to find out that it'd all been a ruse. And of course, he hadn't told _her_ about his major mistake. _How do you tell your only child that you've essentially bankrupted them both?_

"Let's make a deal, Mr Lovegood. I promise that I will speak nothing to your precious Luna if you agree to do something for me." Draco's eyes positively twinkled in the dim light of the bar. He knew he had Xenophilius right where he wanted him. It was working exactly as planned.

"You're aware that my mother has left my father, correct?"

"Yes, of course, but what's that got to do with this?" Xenophilius asked, puzzled once again as to the younger man's intentions.

"I need you to go out on a date with her."

"What?" yelped Xenophilius, his eyes widening in shock. "A date?"

"Yes, Mr Lovegood," affirmed Draco. "You do know what a date is, right? Or do you need me to explain it to you?"

"I know what it is," Xenophilius muttered, nodding his head. It'd been thirteen years since he'd been out with a woman, but the Malfoy boy didn't have to know that. _Besides, he probably already does, _Xenophilius thought, wondering if there was any way he could get out of this. Spending an evening with Narcissa Malfoy wasn't anywhere near on the list of things he desired to do. Quite frankly, he had no idea how to even converse with a woman of her stature.

"You'll have dinner with her at her flat three Fridays from now," began Draco.

"And, what if I say no? What if she says no? She definitely won't want to dine with _me_!" Xenophilius rationalised, hoping he wouldn't have to go through with it.

"Mr Lovegood, don't concern yourself with that. All you've got to concern yourself with are these things…"

Xenophilius sighed, cringing as he allowed the younger man's mad plan to fill his ears. He latched on to every word he said, committing them to memory. He absolutely couldn't have his Luna find out about what he'd done.

"Just make sure to do everything I've said and you'll be fine," Draco assured him. Xenophilius obediently nodded. Draco rose to leave, his hand lightly grazing the unused shrunken coin purse buried in the pocket of his trousers. Draco felt relieved to have earned Mr Lovegood's help for free.

"Wait!" Xenophilius grabbed Draco's elbow and tugged him back toward the bar. "What's in it for me?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Draco made a move to leave again, but Xenophilius' grasp on his elbow tightened.

"Aren't you going to give me something?" Xenophilius demanded.

"I won't tell your precious Luna how her father is a complete fraud. Isn't that enough?" spat Draco, prying Xenophilius' hand off him.

"I can tell her that myself!" argued Xenophilius.

"Oh, really?" Draco taunted, cocking an eyebrow up at the older man. "We're both well aware that you _won't_. You simply _can't_," Draco lazily responded, sighing in frustration. He'd been so close.

"You don't know that!"

Draco paused for a moment, pretending to think over Xenophilius' request. He did have a feeling it'd come down to this, and he was rather surprised that he'd almost walked away with only having to give the promise of his word. It seemed as if the older man had finally realised the potential for empty promises in mere words. Draco huffed, stuck his hand into his trouser pocket and placed the coin purse in Xenophilius' hand.

Xenophilius' tugged at the drawstring, opening the purse and revealing the contents, filled to the brim with more Galleons that he'd ever seen in his life. He quickly calculated the contents, determining that the amount equaled what he'd lost and then some. Xenophilius made a move to pocket the coin purse, but Draco snatched it from his hands.

"That's not how it works, Mr Lovegood," chided Draco with a smile. "You can stop by my office Monday morning after your dinner. _This_ will be yours then," he added, jiggling the purse next to Xenophilius' head for added effect.

"Alright," conceded Xenophilius, hoping he'd remembered Draco's many instructions. "Why'd you add more?" he inquired, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"I figured you and your daughter could take another trip to find the Crumpled whatever you both are so obsessed with and prove to her that they don't exist," Draco replied with a shrug. He turned to leave, not bothering to give Xenophilius a second glance.

"They do exist!" Xenophilius called to Draco's retreating figure.

It wasn't until well after Draco left that Xenophilius realised that he could kill two birds with one stone during his dinner with Mrs Malfoy. After all, she probably knew the answers to some of his most pressing questions.


	5. Sinfully Successful

"You sure about this?" Daphne Greengrass whispered heatedly into Lucius Malfoy's ear as they walked through Diagon Alley's latest establishment, an incredibly posh French restaurant.

"Absolutely, Miss Greengrass," Lucius cooed, placing a hand on the small of Daphne's lower back, guiding her through the crowd to their reserved table. Daphne shivered under Lucius' touch, and she immediately wondered if she was in over her head. In all honesty, she wasn't sure how she even agreed to this in the first place.

XXX

The indecent proposal came the previous weekend after a lavish dinner at Malfoy Manor. Daphne had accompanied Astoria, who had claimed that Daphne had to meet the Malfoy men. Astoria had gushed to Daphne about her new beau and how a proposal was forthcoming.

Daphne had originally declined, having no desire to spend any time with either man. Draco had been in her year at Hogwarts, and she wasn't particularly fond of him. In her opinion, Draco was a self-entitled pompous prat. She'd only spent time with Draco during her school years to get closer to her longtime crush, Theodore Nott. _Fat lot of good that did! _Daphne had crinkled her nose in disgust, recalling articles in the gossip rags that linked Theodore with Flora Carrow. Daphne hadn't pegged the quiet girl as Theodore's type.

Astoria had abandoned Daphne and had fled to another part of the massive manor to spend some quality time with her paramour. And of course, Daphne hadn't been able to hold her own under Lucius' guises. It had started out innocently at first – offers for another glass of wine and another small sliver of the decadent chocolate cake they'd consumed for dessert.

Lucius had proceeded to ask about her life post-Hogwarts. Again, the questions had seemed innocent enough at the start, but quickly turned to more personal matters. The wine had worked wonders, allowing Daphne to open up to Lucius completely and confess her undying love for Theodore.

Much to her surprise, Lucius had offered to help her in her quest to win the younger Nott's heart. But, his promises to help her hadn't come without a price. And like a fool, she had agreed to whatever he suggested.

XXX

Ever the gentleman, Lucius pulled out Daphne's chair and gestured for her to sit. She obliged and slid into her seat. She felt multiple sets of eyes on them, and she tried hard not to blush. Lucius spread her serviette across her lap and placed her silverware next to her dinner plates. He pointedly moved his chair right next to hers before taking a seat.

Lucius placed his hand over hers, and she flinched at his unexpected touch. He pressed down lightly, keeping her hand in place. He rubbed small circles on it with his thumb, trying to calm her down. Daphne absolutely needed to play her part tonight. Lucius refused to let her ruin his plan, which was working out perfectly.

"So, what's good?" whispered Daphne, hoping not to call more attention to them. She had no doubt that correspondents from the various papers were among the diners this evening, as the restaurant had just opened. Daphne hoped the _Prophet_ wasn't among the reporters, but knew better. She could already see the headlines in the morning papers linking her to the older Malfoy.

"I have no idea," Lucius dismissively replied, setting down his menu. "I highly doubt any food they're passing off as French cuisine can compare to any of the restaurants in _France_…"

"You really are an _arse_!" Daphne interrupted, cutting off Lucius' rant about the _true_ definition of French food. "If you can't already tell, we aren't in _France_. Cut them some slack!"

Lucius' mouth dropped open slightly and he cocked a single eyebrow up at the older Greengrass girl. _Feisty! I like it! _Daphne reminded him a lot of his estranged wife, which was why he'd been so intent to have her help him. He briefly considered abandoning his elaborate plan to win back Narcissa's attention and turning his focus on Daphne instead. _I can make her forget about Theodore Nott just like that_, he thought watching Daphne's eyes glaze over as he stroked the inside of her wrist.

"The finest," Lucius drawled with a smile. "Oh, and try the trout. I've heard great things," he added.

"Thanks," she replied, smiling back at him. "So, is she here yet?"

"Any minute now."

XXX

Lucius and Daphne managed to converse pleasantly while they waited for Narcissa's arrival. With the help of a few glasses of the restaurant's finest elf-made wine, Daphne loosened up and was now playing the role of a possible paramour perfectly. Daphne couldn't argue that Lucius was an incredibly handsome man, even more so when he wasn't acting like an arrogant prat.

Lucius' cool grey irises flitted from Daphne and back to the steady groups of people filling the many tabletops scattered around the restaurant. He really hoped that Narcissa would show up tonight. He'd been fortunate to overhear conversation between two of her girlfriends at Twilfitt and Tattings earlier that week. According to them, Narcissa was on the fence about attending. Frankly, she didn't trust the restaurant's ability to serve proper French food. If anyone were a connoisseur of French food, it'd be Narcissa, and as such, her standards for quality French cuisine were extremely high.

He shifted his gaze back to Daphne, who'd turned her attention to the appetizers that they'd ordered. Her manners, from her posture, the way she held her silverware and the way she ate her food, were absolutely perfect. _She's been taught well_, Lucius noticed, hoping that her younger sister exhibited the same mannerisms. He surveyed her appearance once more, making sure no strand of hair was out-of-place and that no morsel of food had gotten on her gown.

He chuckled softly, recalling the heated argument they had gotten into over the frock he wanted her to wear for the occasion. She'd almost slapped him when he pulled Narcissa's silk lavender dress from the depths of her armoire. Then again, Lucius had ruined his chance after he admitted that they were the dress robes Narcissa had worn when he proposed. Eventually, Daphne gave in and agreed to wear a greyish blue dress, one of Narcissa's favourites that she'd left.

"She's here, Daphne."

XXX

They looked up and watched as Mrs Malfoy glided into the restaurant, her head held high and her back perfectly straight, walking as if she owned the place. Her girlfriends trailed behind her, none of the even coming remotely close to her aristocratic beauty. Lucius' heart leapt into his chest as he took in every inch of her toned figure, clad in a formfitting black evening gown.

"Wow… she's _gorgeous_," Daphne breathed, completely blown away by Narcissa's beauty. Daphne couldn't believe that Lucius actually believed she could compare to his estranged wife. _No way in hell_, Daphne thought, shaking her head. _She must have some Veela in her. How can she be so beautiful?_

"It's rude to stare," Lucius playfully chided, touching Daphne's arm to get her attention back on him. "And, you're right. She's stunning."

"Remind me again how you lost her," Daphne suggested, also trying to take Lucius' focus off his wife.

Lucius leaned in close and started telling Daphne how he'd gone wrong. To the casual onlookers, of which there were many in the restaurant that evening, it appeared as if Lucius and Daphne were having a very intimate conversation.

"I'm sorry," Daphne sympathized once he'd finished retelling his story. "It seems like you really do love her, and I hope you get her back."

"Thank you. I hope so too. I honestly don't know what to do without her," Lucius confessed, momentarily dropping his guard and letting his true feelings about his separation show. Of course, he didn't want the public to know how hurt he'd been after she'd left him. He didn't bother denying their insane stories linking him to various witches and even wizards.

They sat quietly for a moment, focusing on their food and trying not to stare at Narcissa. They eventually regained their composure and slipped back into their roles for the evening, praying that Narcissa would finally look their way.

XXX

Lucius immediately noticed his wife's reaction, to what he could only assume, was from the chatter of the women seated at the table behind her. He knew their words had upset her from the slight droop of her shoulder, the tilt of her head and the way she clenched and unclenched her jaw in tune to their words. He glanced at the women, verifying that they were discussing his wife. And, from the looks of it, they weren't saying the most positive things.

It puzzled him that Narcissa would be so upset over the opinions of women so far beneath her. Perhaps their separation was also taking a toll on her. He hoped so anyway.

"Those women are horrid," Daphne whispered, also noticing how they were openly insulting Narcissa behind her back.

"Indeed," agreed Lucius, watching in horror as the tips of his wife's ears turned red. They only turned red on two occasions, anger being one of them. He could tell that she'd reached for her wand at that moment.

"How rude," Daphne said, watching as the women's words attracted looks from the other diners who turned to look at Narcissa.

XXX

"Daphne Greengrass?" one of the women seated behind Narcissa shrieked, the shock colouring her voice as she locked eyes with Daphne from across the way. Daphne blushed slightly, but maintained her composure. She swallowed hard and shook her head. _Here we go._

Lucius didn't even need to look up to confirm that his wife's azure irises had _finally_ found him. He scooted closer to Daphne, until the point where he was almost sitting on her lap. He placed a hand over hears and began whispering the plans for what they were to do, lest Daphne somehow forgot.

Daphne trailed her perfectly manicured hand up and down the exposed skin of Lucius' toned forearm. A pretty blush coloured her pale cheeks, upon realising that she enjoyed the feel of his muscles far more than she expected.

"It's all right, luv," Lucius whispered into her ear. "You're doing a wonderful job. Keep it up," he moaned appreciatively as her fingertips lightly brushed the skin of his inner wrist.

Lucius gazed lovely into Daphne's pale blue eyes, imagining that they were Narcissa's. He reached forward and tucked an errant strand of blonde hair behind Daphne's ear, wishing that the soft strand belonged to Narcissa. He leaned closer and whispered something to Daphne her that earned him a melodic laugh. He didn't doubt that the sound reached Narcissa's ears.

"Is she buying it?" Daphne asked, slipping her hand under the table and placing it on Lucius' muscular thigh. At his behest, she gave it a gentle squeeze, which deepened her blush. She tried to remove her hand, but Lucius placed a hand over hers, holding it in place.

"Yes," Lucius breathed into a spot behind Daphne's ear, which was Narcissa's weak spot. Daphne moaned softly.

Lucius went to pull away and was pleasantly surprised when Daphne pressed her lips into his in a fiery kiss. His shock faded rather quickly, and Lucius responded to her kiss in kind, enjoying the feel and taste of the young woman.

"I'm so sorry," Daphne profusely apologized once they'd finally pulled away from each other. "That wasn't part of the plan."

"It's perfectly fine, Daphne," Lucius responded, his voice low and husky. "Narcissa's just left for the loo, so it worked."

XXX

Daphne stood outside the loo, pacing back and forth and wringing her hands. Part of her wanted to abandon their plan completely. She hadn't meant to kiss him. She _really_ hadn't meant to kiss him. But, she had enjoyed it and wanted to do it again.

Daphne's heart broke as she overheard Narcissa getting sick in the loo. Daphne waited until she heard the toilet flush and the stall open before she walked in, bumping into Narcissa as planned.

Narcissa appeared to have cried, and her eye makeup looked less impeccable than earlier that evening. At that moment, Daphne knew that the plan worked. She genuinely asked if Narcissa needed anything, if only to rid her guilty conscience over having snogged Narcissa's husband.

Daphne inspected her flawless election in the mirror, pretending to touch it up. All the while, she stole small glances at Mrs Malfoy who appeared preoccupied with fixing her appearance. Daphne waited until she caught Narcissa's attention before bidding her goodbye.

XXX

"So, I take it Narcissa didn't take well to us?" Lucius asked once Daphne returned to the table.

"Lucius, she looks awful! I feel like such an arse!" Daphne whinged, focusing her gaze on the tabletop.

"No, Daphne," Lucius countered. He reached forward and titled Daphne's chin so he could look into her eyes. "All you've done is help me, and I will help you in return."

Daphne nodded and tried hard to focus on Theo and how this would all be worth it in the end.

Eventually, Narcissa returned from the loo, showing no signs of her crying session. Lucius pulled Daphne toward him and pressed his lips against hers, knowing it'd effectively seal the deal. Narcissa departed from the restaurant moments later, confirming his thoughts.

"Thank you," Lucius whispered to one of Narcissa's friends as he and Daphne exited the restaurant later that evening.

"You're welcome," the woman whispered back. "And, good luck."

XXX

Back at her flat, Narcissa listened carefully as the two men told her their tale of deceit and deception. She really had to hand it to them for executing the perfect plan.

"I cannot believe that you got _Olivia_ to help!" Narcissa exclaimed, casting a look of disbelief at Lucius. "No wonder she was so insistent that I attend! I thought she only wanted to go so she could meet the chef!"

"I suppose she got a little _something_ for her participation," Lucius replied, smiling at his wife.

"And you, Draco!" Narcissa scolded, glaring at her son. "I do not approve of this behaviour, but I suppose I can let this one slide," she replied, winking at him. Draco hung his head, faking shame over his actions.

Eventually, talk between the two men turned to business matters. Narcissa couldn't help but smile widely. Lucius and Draco had no idea that she'd suspected some sort of plot from the beginning and played along in hopes that she'd be reunited with Lucius. But of course, she'd never tell them which participant spilled the beans.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: We've reached the end. Thank you to everyone who has favourited, followed and reviewed. I've had so much fun telling you all this little tale, and I hope you've enjoyed it.**


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